


You Steal My Breath Away

by Gobayern16



Series: Star Wars Whumptober 2020 [13]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Breathing issues, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Jesse is a di’kut, Podfic Welcome, Sickfic, Whump, Whumptober 2020, can’t breathe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26990110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gobayern16/pseuds/Gobayern16
Summary: His lungs feel like they’re full of glass. Jesse curls in on himself as his lungs finally revolt against his treatment of them. Each hacking cough is torn from deep within his chest, ribs aching from the force. There’s no pause, no slowing them down, and Jesse panics.He can’tbreathe— there’s noair— Jesse’s gonna suffocate cause he’s adi’kut— he can’tbreathe— hecan’t breathe—he can’t breath—
Relationships: CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555 & CT-5597 | Jesse, CT-5597 | Jesse & Coric (Star Wars), CT-5597 | Jesse/CT-6116 | Kix, background CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555/CT-21-0408 | Echo
Series: Star Wars Whumptober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948018
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	You Steal My Breath Away

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Whumptober Prompt #13: Breathe in breathe out - Oxygen Mask  
> Thank you to the wonderful RogueLadyVader for beta-ing!

Jesse circles Fives warily, trying to catch his breath. His whole chest feels tight, each inhale a battle he’s trying to hide.

_ Probably not my best idea to spar while sick,  _ Jesse muses ruefully.  _ Kix is gonna be so pissed when he gets back from his seminar.  _

He must have been breathing harder than he thought because Fives pauses, eyebrows narrowing in concern.

“You okay, vod? You look kinda pale.”

“I’m fine,” Jesse grits out. Fives eyes him skeptically, but Jesse doesn’t care. He looks for an opening, a weakness,  _ anything _ to end this fight now, before his protesting lungs end it for him. 

He takes a deep breath, immediately regretting it when the constant tickle in his throat threatens to turn into a coughing fit. He manages to hold it back through sheer force of will.

Fives’ expression shifts from concern to outright worry.

“You really don’t look good, Jess…”

“I’m fine,” Jesse snaps. He doesn’t give Fives a chance to call him out on his lie. He lunges at him. Feints left, drops to his right. He kicks at Fives’ knee, trying to sweep him off his feet. Fives dodges easily. Jesse keeps pressing, trying to land a hit. But Fives dances away every time.

Jesse snarls, movements growing sloppy from fatigue and frustration. He spies an opening in close, blocking Fives’ punch instead of dodging. Too late, he realizes it was a trap.

Fives grabs him, flips him over his shoulder. Jesse lands on his back, impact forcing all the air from his lungs. He lays there, stunned. He forcibly reminds himself that he just had the wind knocked out of him, nothing worse. Just like all the other times he was sent flying while sparring. 

He sucks in a breath. Or tries to.

His lungs feel like they’re full of glass. Jesse curls in on himself as his lungs finally revolt against his treatment of them. Each hacking cough is torn from deep within his chest, ribs aching from the force. There’s no pause, no slowing them down, and Jesse panics.

He can’t  _ breathe _ — there’s no  _ air _ — Jesse’s gonna suffocate cause he’s a  _ di’kut  _ — he can’t  _ breathe  _ — he  _ can’t breathe  _ — _ he can’t breath  _ —

Jesse is vaguely aware — through the haze of fear and burning in his lungs — of frantic shouts and hands touching him. But he can’t focus on anything but his pressing need for air. He chokes, claws desperately at the floor. He just wants to  _ breathe _ . Black edges his vision, noise fading to a roar. His lungs are  **burning** .

Something touches his face, seals over his nose and mouth. A pressurized hiss.

He gasps, lungs filling with sweet, blessed oxygen. The vice grip on his lungs slowly starts to loosen. He pants, chest heaving, struggling to bring his breathing back into a normal rhythm. One, two, three, four; he consciously counts his inhale. Pauses a beat. Then two. Counts his exhale; one, two, three, four. Does it again. And again, each breath coming easier.

Jesse manages a deep breath for the first time in what feels like days. He lays there, gratefully sucking in air. Slowly his heartbeat calms, panic and terror receding. He finally becomes aware of the small crowd surrounding him. 

“You’re a right di’kut, Jesse,” Coric gripes at him. “The hell were you thinking, sparring with a lung infection? Oh wait, you  _ weren’t _ ,” the medic growls.

“Sorry,” Jesse mumbles.

“You scared us, Jesse,” Fives says quietly, leaning into Echo’s side. “Kriff, I thought I hurt you badly, broke your ribs or something.” His eyes are shiny, gleaming with tears. “For Force’s sake, your lips were  _ blue _ .” Echo throws an arm over Fives’ shoulders, hugs him tightly.

“Sorry,” Jesse repeats helplessly, voice muffled by the mask.

“Just don’t do it again, vod.” Fives clasps his arm gently.

“Yeah, vod,” Coric agrees. “Don’t make me tell Kix his riduur died cause he was stupid enough to ignore a lung infection and decided sparring was a good idea.”

_ Sithspit, Kix, _ Jesse thinks, eyes squeezing shut. His riduur was going to be so upset.

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Coric snorts, clearly following Jesse’s line of thought. Jesse would tell him where to shove it, but he’s suddenly sapped of all energy, body weighed down by pain and exhaustion. Eyes drooping, he’s only partially aware of being loaded onto a stretcher. Between one breath and the next he’s gone, succumbing to the darkness.

⚕️⚕️⚕️⚕️⚕️⚕️⚕️⚕️⚕️⚕️

When he wakes in the medbay eight hours later, Kix is at his bedside. The medic tears him a new one, fear making him angry. Jesse interrupts his rant with a hug, pulling him in tight. Kix collapses into him like a puppet with its strings cut.

“I could have lost you, Jesse,” Kix whispers brokenly.

“I’m sorry.” Jesse’s heart aches at the pain he’s caused his riduur. “I’ll be better. No more avoiding medbay. I promise.” 

  
  


(It’s a vow Jesse wholeheartedly intends to keep. He never wants to see that wild unrestrained fear in Kix’s eyes ever again. Not if he can help it.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos greatly appreciated. :)
> 
>  **Permissions:** All my works, including this one, can be translated and podficced without first asking my express permission. I ask only that you credit me as the original author and provide a link back to the original work. For anything else, please ask first. Thanks.


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